


What They Want is not What You Are

by gingayellow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-04-20 00:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14248731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingayellow/pseuds/gingayellow
Summary: [S3, takes places between "The Journey" and "Chasing a Comet"] While Keith helps Shiro, they both have to confront their respective insecurities. [Not an AU, but probably a little canon divergence lol, content warnings for mentionings of parental death, alluded to trauma, and a character thinking he sees a corpse (there's no character death, promise!)]





	1. Chapter 1

Title: What They Want is not What You Are  
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender  
Characters/Pairing: Shiro/Keith  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, anything mentioned here by name isn't mine  
Warnings: Alluded to trauma. Parental death mention. There’s no character death, but there is a scene where Keith *thinks* he’s found Shiro’s corpse.  
Notes: Takes place after “The Journey” and before “Chasing a Comet.” There’s an obvious nod to Babylon 5, an obvious nod to TNG, and a subtler to the Voyager episode “Barge of the Dead.” Shiro deserves all of these 90s sci-fi references.

\--

“Sorry I’m late,” Keith said as he removed his boots, putting them next to the door. “We needed to talk to the Narn ambassador before we could officially call the mission completed.” He hung his jacket up. “I don’t know how—how Allura does it,” he amended quickly. It was true, however: she had only been piloting for few months, but wound up saving all their butts, and still had the energy for diplomacy. She was a good teammate.

Keith straddled the chair next to the bed, in the way that TV character Shiro liked did. Small talk wasn’t working (big surprise there); time to be direct. “Have you eaten? Hydrated? Taken your medicine?”

Shiro met his eyes for a moment, then looked away. Keith has learned over the past two months since they had found Shiro that meant yes—if he hadn’t, he couldn’t look Keith in the eye.

“Okay,” Keith said. “Do you… do you want to talk about what happened before we found you?”

Shiro looked away, hair hiding his face.

“Okay,” Keith managed. “Just try to get some sleep then.” Shiro immediately turned his back to him as he settled down to sleep. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

He waited until Shiro’s breathing evened out. Only then did he move the chair to the desk, so he’d have a place to rest his head. Keith ignored how his eyes stung as he shut them. Shiro didn’t need someone falling apart at the seams. He needed someone who could actually help him.

Keith had lost Shiro once before because he hadn’t acting in time. That would never happen again.

\--

When Keith woke up, he was warm—which was surprising, since he’d slept without his jacket. After a moment, he realized that Shiro’s spare blanket was wrapped around his shoulders.

Keith glanced over his shoulder. Shiro was fast asleep but had shifted so that he was facing Keith.

His eyes were stringing again, but that didn’t stop Keith from placed the spare blanket over Shiro’s body, tucking it up to his chin. Even now, Shiro wouldn’t give up in him. And even now, Keith wouldn’t give up on him.

\--

“Give up, Allura.” It took everything Keith had in him not to snarl those words. But the leader of Voltron had to be above his negative emotions.

“You know I can’t, Keith.” Allura, blast her, had so much sympathy in her eyes. “I don’t think Shiro’s motives are sinister.”

“Then why do you want to interrogate him?!”

Allura took a deep breath. “ **We** need to see what he remembers of being captured by the Galra Empire. We would do that for anything who was missing this long.” Allura put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s so this won’t happen again. So the monsters who had him can’t claim him again.”

It took awhile to talk again. Keith had to take several deep breaths. But he finally got out a “Fine. But I’m doing it. And yes, Allura, I know I haven’t gotten through to him yet.” One more deep breath. Be a leader. Shiro needed a leader. “But give me one more week. Please.”

She frowned, but nodded. “Of course.”

Keith managed a smile, and began to leave, until Allura said his name again.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. If you have a chance to bring him back, then I won’t stop you from taking it.”

\--

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Shiro wouldn’t look at him.

“Shiro, please. I understand not wanting to talk about bad stuff.” The bulk of Keith’s childhood memories were of adults trying to get him to talk about how he found his father dead in his chair from a heart attack one morning before school. “But it’s important.” God, he hated this, but he had to play this card. “Allura says you have to, Shiro.” Please. Please talk, so we can keep you safe.

Shiro looked at him—and his eyes were wide with fear. “Please. Keith. I can’t.”

“Shiro—”

“I **can’t**.”

It finally happened. He’d let Shiro down.

“O-okay.” He sunk in the chair, hoping Shiro wouldn’t notice that his world was falling apart around him, “You rest then. I’ll be here if you need me.”

Eventually, Shiro went to sleep. Keith didn’t.

\--

_You scramble out of Shiro’s Lion and ignore the shouts, the cries, because Shiro is in the docking bay, he’s home, but he’s in a ship with **no air** , you have to get him out, you cut down the door, and grab him, and—and he’s cold to the touch—no, no NO_

“Keith. Wake up.” The voice was so calm, so gentle, that Keith had no choice but to obey.

Shiro was standing over him, eyes shadowed and hair tangled, but warm and (almost) smiling. “I’d ask if you’re okay, but since you were screaming in your sleep, I’m guessing not.”

“I—I’m sorry.” Their roles had changed. Now Keith couldn’t look at Shiro. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Shiro shook his head. “It’s the least I can do.” He almost smiled again. “I haven’t been the best house guest.”

“Shiro.” Why would he say that? “This is your home?”

“Really?” Now he was smiling, but there was something to it that shook Keith to his core. “Because I keep seeming to wind up in Galra prisons.”

“Shiro.” He couldn’t fail again. But he had no idea what to do. “Please, tell me what you need me to do.”

There was a minute of silence, until Shiro whispered, “Tell me what you wanted to be when you grew up.”

Keith cleared his throat. “A fighter pilot, of course. That’s the dream of every Garrison cadet.”

Shiro gave him a look.

“A pro-wrestler,” Keith admitted, although it was worth it when Shiro laughed. A real laugh.

“Seriously?” Shiro said as he sat back down on the bed.

“Seriously.” Keith fought the urge to sit next to him. “You got to beat up people who wronged you in super elaborate ways. It seemed like the ideal career to me, but it kind of lost its appeal when Dad told me it was fake when I was three.”

“Well, I always wanted to be an astronaut,” Shiro said as he kept laughing. “For as long as I can remember, but,” and it was a little scary how much his sobs sounded like laughing. “But I get hurt every time, and I—I don’t know if I even wanna be here anymore…”

Keith grabbed him in a tight hug, because what else could he do? He couldn’t say anything; not for a wound this deep. All he could do was hold Shiro until the worst of the storm had past.

When the sobs died down to a sniffle, Shiro whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that.” Keith tightened his grip. “You’ve gone through more than anyone else should. “

“I’m being weak—”

“You’re being human.”

Shiro shook his head fiercely. “No, no I can’t. People don’t want me to just be h—they want, they need, they deserve someone who can—”

“I don’t want or need anything from you Shiro,” Keith vowed. “Just you.” That was all he ever needed.

He wasn’t sure if Shiro fully understood what he had said. Heck, Keith wasn’t sure if **he** understood what he had just said. But Shiro wasn’t shaking anymore, and that would have to do for tonight.

“Do you,” Shiro frowned, nervous. “Do you still want to know about what happened? Because it’s all just images, but I could—”

Keith put his hand over Shiro’s mouth. “Later. For now, we sleep.”

“I can do that. So can you.” Keith yelped as Shiro brought him down on the mattress as well.

“Keith, you’ve been sleeping in that chair since you rescued me,” Shiro said, voice already thick with sleep. “If you don’t want to share a bed, fine, but you need to sleep in a bed.” He loosened his grip, in case Keith really did want to leave.

Keith made his decision in a heartbeat. “I’m fine where I am.”

\--

Final Note: There was supposed to be more sad stuff in this, but idk, it felt like I’d be rubbing salt in their wounds? I might try it in a part 2 on Monday.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: What They Want is not What You Are  
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender  
Characters/Pairing: Shiro/Keith  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, anything mentioned here by name isn't mine  
Warnings: Alluded to trauma. Familial death mention. Depression/aftermath of trauma. Characters (not any of the main ones, I promise) being extra cruel to characters dealing with trauma.

\--

It wasn’t a nightmare, not in the traditional sense. He was vaguely aware of being in bed, Keith next to him… but there was someone else in the room. Not necessarily malevolent, just… watching. Part of him knew this still wasn’t good, but he… he just wanted to rest, to obey, to not have to think for once.

And maybe if it was just him, he would. But he had to protect Keith. He forced himself up, but no one was there. That was a relief, he supposed.

Keith tensed next to him, groaning. For a moment, Shiro wondered if he’d woken him up, but no, upon closer inspection, Keith was “merely” having a nightmare.

Shiro ignored the dull beginnings of a headache as he settled down next to Keith again, stroking his hair. “Hey. Hey, Keith.” God, he wished he was better at this. His grandfather was always so much better at comforting others (and everything else, really). Still, he had to try. “It’s just a bad dream, buddy. Come back to me.”

Keith glared at him blearily, and then hid his face in Shiro’s chest. Shiro managed not to chuckle. It was cute, until you remembered Keith had a nightmare, and needed someone to be his rock until he woke up properly. 

“Dreamt you—you were gone.” Keith’s voice was raw.

He wanted, more than anything, to promise Keith he would never leave, but experience has taught him he’d just break Keith’s heart again if he did. “It was just a dream, Keith.” At least he could say that.

(Grandfather could do better. Coran could do better. Heck, Lance could probably do better.)

“Yeah,” Keith grunted as he sat up, “I know.” There was something unreadable in his eyes (or maybe Shiro had just been gone so long, he didn’t know Keith as well as he used to anymore) as he gazed down at Shiro, pushing tangled white bangs from his eyes. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you here.”

There were so many reasons that Keith couldn’t do that. That he shouldn’t do it. Shiro could have easily won such an argument… but Keith’s fingers were so gentle, and he spoke with such conviction, that for now at least, he let it go.

“I’m a little hungry,” Shiro finally settled on for a distraction. “I bet you are, too.”

Keith bristled. “I’m not—” So, of course, that was when his stomach grumbled.

For the first time in months, Shiro felt himself smile for real. “Now that brings back memories.”

“Don’t go there, Shirogane.”

“Once upon a time, I was mugged while picking up a cheesecake for my birthday.” Shiro propped himself on his side, not bothering to push the white bangs that fell into his right eye. “He had a knife and everything. It was very scary—until he passed out from hunger into my arms.”

Keith huffed as he left the bed. “I didn’t pass out from hunger. I was sun sick.”

“Mm-hmm. And as we all know, the only way to cure sun sickness is to share the cheesecake with the man you were mugging.”

Keith huffed again. “Fine. Indulge your crummy sense of humor.”

“Thank you so much. I will.”

“But I gotta go to get breakfast,” Keith said as he shrugged on his jacket. He smiled at Shiro, which was a relief. “You know, that was the first birthday party I’d ever been invited to.”

“Well, it’s not like I had a lot of birthday parties growing up.” Grandfather was a good man, but busy. They usually just watched a movie at home together—and then he’d died, and Shiro declared himself an adult in the eyes of the state, and he’d been too busy making sure he could pay rent and bills to worry about birthdays. But then he had enrolled in the Garrison with a full scholarship and stipend and felt financially secure enough to drive to the local supermarket and buy a cheesecake for a party of one… until a wild-eyed kid asked for his help in an earnest (if violent) way, and they wound up eating the cake on a small bench next to the supermarket together. Shiro had insisted his “mugger” (it was hard to believe that someone who was trembling from exhaustion, even after eating was ever really a threat) meet him again, to do his pleasant surprise, he did—and again, and again, until they were meeting at least once a week. Roughly two months later, Shiro had convinced him to apply to Galaxy Garrison. 

It was a good memory. 

But Keith wasn’t a kid anymore. He was a young man. A Blade. A Paladin. The leader of Voltron. The bravest person Shiro knew. And Shiro… he couldn’t even get out of bed.

He needed to do better. He needed to be better.

“I’ll go with you,” and he must have startled Keith with the force of his words, because his eyes went wide. “I mean, if you’re okay with that.”

Keith was still smiling. “I’m more than okay with that.”

\--

Hunk was not okay with this.

It was not too different from their usual “diplomacy days,” as he’d dubbed them. Princess Allura was trying to figure out a trade agreement with the Puigs and the Narn—and how to integrate their respective militaries into the rebellion. Hunk was hardly a diplomat, but he could tell it wasn’t going too great. The Puig, after all, had been recently freed, and didn’t really have a military. The Narn had been fighting the Galra for nearly a century, but their ambassador, G’Kar was… well, his mother would call him eccentric. He seemed as invested in learning about Altean spirituality as the fight against the Galra. Which was great; Hunk was all for spirituality. The Puig ambassador, however, not so much.

“Surely you must understand that my people need that grain.” The Puig ambassador kept his tone level, but there was an undercurrent of anger Hunk highly doubted even a conveniently timed pizza roll could soothe. “We’re on the front lines—”

“So is my planet, Ambassador,” G’Kar reminded him, eyes steady. “But you must remember that we are on the front lines as well. I confess, if Voltron magically swooped in and handled all bureaucratic tasks as well as he does giants monsters, I would thank whatever deity that was bored that day and indulged in minor mischief. But these tasks require mortals, and mortals have to work around the Galra Empire.”

“I know.” The Puig ambassador rubbed at his eyes. “I just. It’s so much.”

“It is,” G’Kar agreed. “But freedom—real freedom—is worth it.”

“I am in full agreement, Ambassador G’Kar,” Allura said with a smile that only hinted at exhaustion. The last battle had been rough, but she’d pulled through for all of them again—although Hunk wasn’t sure that he would ever get used to seeing the Princess in pink armor. “And while Voltron’s hands might be too big for filing, rest assured that you need a defender, we will be there.”

“Are you positive about that, Princess?” The Puig ambassador’s tone was icy. “Because Prince Lotor nearly reconquered my planet—”

“I know,” Allura interjected smoothly. “And we offered the Blades’ protection—”

“And we told you that we don’t trust the Galra.”

“Ambassador.” Hunk had no idea how G’Kar remained so calm. “I will rejoice when the Empire falls as well. Which is why I spoke to these Blades of Smurfora—”

“Mamora,” Hunk supplied helpfully.

“Ah, of course. Thank you. I wanted to see why these soldiers would betray their sacred vow to their Emperor… and I believe, after speaking to their leader Kolivan, that they are sincere in their desire for freedom for the universe.” Allura smiled at G’Kar gratefully. So did Hunk.

“Perhaps,” conceded the Puig ambassador. “But I wonder why they’re needed while the Paladins are here.”

Now Allura was frowning. “Ambassador, I assure you, the other Paladins and I are doing everything we can to help the rebels and build up the Voltron alliance.”

“Yes, Princess. But you must remember that my people expect Voltron to save them. They don’t trust anyone else. Surely at least one of your mighty Paladins can spare some time to help my people.”

“I… I suppose we could look at our schedules.” Allura was (understandably and rightfully, in Hunk’s eyes) uncomfortable about this, but what could they do? They needed all the allies they could get. “Hunk, are any Paladins free this week?”

“Well, Lance and I are supporting Captain Olia’s fleet. Pidge is on another mission to find her brother.” Hunk chose to ignore how the Puig ambassador bristled at the idea of a Paladin having a life outside of the defending the universe. “Keith can’t go, because he’s still taking care of Shiro—”

“Who is this Shiro?” G’Kar asked, way more interested than Hunk was comfortable with.

“Shiro was—is the Black Paladin,” Hunk managed. “He was missed for almost a year because he was captured by the Galra when we defeated Zarkon—”

“ ** _And you just let him back on the ship?!_** ” the Puig ambassador thundered, rising to his full height. Allura rose to say something—but he already bolted. Everyone followed him, but Lance had told Hunk earlier that Puigs were ‘scary fast.’ Unfortunately, for once, Lance was right.

\--

“You don’t have to go so fast.”

“I’m fine,” Shiro promised, but didn’t resist when Keith slid an arm around his waist, supporting him. “Hey, Keith, look at me. Going to the kitchen for food. I’m so ambitious today.”

“Shiro, you’ve been hurt. No one expects you to do more than you have.” Keith sounded like he believed that. But Shiro knew that belief was a fragile thing. Your grandfather believed in you, until you were caught daydreaming at school. Your teachers believed in you, until you were kidnapped and turned into a monster. Keith will believe in you, until he sees what a failure you really are.

Shiro shook his head in a final effort to dispel the negative thoughts (truth). He just… he just needed to trust in Keith. Keith still cared for him. Keith didn’t think he was a—

**_“MONSTER.”_ **

The last time someone had looked at Shiro so coldly, he’d been strapped down on a table—and it took everything he had not to lose himself to that memory. One of the ambassadors (Puig?) was looming before him, a living spirit of vengeance.

“Hey!” Keith was between them now, eyes wild with fury. “This guy is a hero, he doesn’t need to take that kind of—”

“Hero,” the Puig ambassador spat out. “Heroes don’t leave in the middle of battle.”

“He was kidnapped, you quiznacking—”

“Yes, the princess told me. And it’s very strange that he found you so easily afterwards, but with no memory of how or why he was captured.”

… Oh God, he was right. He was **right**.

“Shut up—”

“Why should I shut up, when you are the fool who allows a clear traitor, a monster to walk the halls of this ship—”

Keith may have hit the Puig ambassador at that point. He was very quiet all of a sudden.

But it didn’t matter, because that was when Shiro **knew** it was over. The ambassador was right. Sendak was right. His thoughts were right. He was a monster.

And he scrambled for an escape before even Keith could stop him.

\--

Final Notes: the end of the semester was really rough for me, so writing (unsurprisingly) did not happen. However, I'm now on summer break(and I know how this part at least is going to end), so the final part will be done soon, I hope.

(Also: WHY did I decide Star Trek was a TV show in this verse, but Babylon 5 characters are totally real and hanging out w them. D: I'm never going to remember which is what.) And I'm sorry, but it's time we were honest with ourselves: the Blade of Mamora are Smurf with knives (hence, the reference).


End file.
